Accidents Happen
by Jinxible
Summary: An ordinary day turns into a grand adventure when a young woman gets hit by a bus and is pulled into the world of King Arthur and his knights. But things are not always what they seem. Melanie soon learns that everything happens for a reason. TristanOC
1. Chapter I: Its Always Snowing

**Summary:** _An ordinary day turns into a grand adventure when a young woman gets hit by a bus and is pulled into the world of King Arthur and his knights. But things are not always what they seem. Melanie soon learns that everything happens for a reason. Pairing is TristanOC._

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own King Arthur._

**Author's Notes: **_Hello, hello, hello to all! I have another story for you guys. Like before, reviews are welcomed by all readers and any constructive criticism is appreciated. I hope you like it!_

* * *

**Chapter I: It's Always Snowing**

Melanie finished the last of her lemonade as she stood up from the booth. Placing the empty paper cup on the plastic tray, she walked over to the nearest trash can, discarding any leftovers from her meal. And most of the meal was on the tray when she tossed it. The chicken salad she tried to consume was dry and on the menu, the so-called fresh fruit cocktail she ate was no were close to being such.

Food from the Kelly's was usually very good. It always held that distinct quality of flavor and it possessed just the right amount of seasonings. And, to make it even more appealing, it was only a few blocks away from Melanie's job. It was very convenient on those days when she just had to leave the shop for lunch.

Melanie was used to disappointments, even in something small like a one hour lunch break. It was just another day in her life, another ordinary moment.

Walking toward the exit of the restaurant, Melanie could see a smiling couple through the door. A man and a woman, no more than 30, holding hands and looking so in love. Some words were passed between the two and the young blonde reached up and gave the man an endearing kiss which lasted longer than Melanie expected.

Some things are to be kept private.

Pushing the door lightly, careful not to knock them down, she couldn't resist. "You know there's a hotel is right up the street. Maybe you two should get a room." The couple, so lost in the moment, didn't even hear what Melanie had said.

_Are they trying to make me sick_, thought Melanie as she walked past them, continuing on her way. She hated public displays of affection, mainly for the simple reason that it's never happened to her. Melanie was jealous of all the happy couples, though she would never admit it to anyone. The thought of poking her eyes out came to mind every time she bared witness to such scenes. Though, she often wondered why she never found happiness. Why did she never fall in love? She must have thought about it hundreds of times, but she never could quite explain it.

DAYS GO BY…I CAN FEEL 'EM FLYING LIKE A HAND OUT THE WINDOW IN THE WIND…

Melanie's cell phone began to ring. She could hear the tune of Keith Urban's _Days Go By_ from inside her purse. It was one of her favorite songs. She moved her head to the music as she began to dig inside her bag.

…SEE CARS GO BY…YEAH ITS ALL WE'VE BEEN GIVEN-

"Hello?" she said waiting for a response.

"Melanie, it's me."

Melanie furrowed her brow. "Who is _me_?"

"Very funny. It's your mother, silly."

"Oh yeah, you did leave me a message." said Melanie as she made a right turn onto Kipling Street

"Well, thanks for replying."

"Not a problem, Mom. So, what did you want?"

"It's more on the lines of what your sister wants."

Melanie sighed. "Let me guess, the mall?"

"This weekend if you can."

"Alright, I'm on it. See you Saturday." And with that their conversation was ended. Melanie snapped her phone closed and dropped it back in her purse.

The phone call from her mother brought Melanie to her next turning point. A simple walk across the street would land her directly in front of her floral shop, _Stop & Smell The Roses_. Melanie was a quick study in entrepreneurship, so she did the next best thing. She opened her own business. Not bad for a 24 year old.

As she waited, along with a crowd of other strangers, for the crosswalk light to change…

DAYS GO BY…I CAN FEEL 'EM FLYING LIKE A HAND OUT THE WINDOW IN THE WIND…

"Who is it this time?" Finding her cell, Melanie looked down on the caller ID before she picked it up and saw that it was Sara, the new girl she had just hired for the front desk of the flower shop. "I'm right across the street. She can't wait two seconds!" An old man, wearing a vintage gray suit with a matching hat, on her left looked over at her when she spoke, an attitude clearly in her voice. "Do you mind buddy?" He quickly turned away when she gave him a more than lethal glance. The crosswalk light signaled for the pedestrians to cross the street. Melanie didn't move.

"Yes Sara, what's the problem?"

"Miss Weathers," began Sara, "I'm sorry to bother you on your lunch break-"

"Never mind about that, Sara. What's the problem?"

"Well, there is a gentleman here stating that he ordered four dozen yellow roses for his daughter's wedding."

"Yes, that is Mister Mason if I'm not mistaken. They've been on reserve since March, along with four bridal bouquets."

"Yes, they have. I looked over the records. I was able to find the bridal bouquets, but…"

"But?" Melanie began to pace on the sidewalk.

"But," Sara laughed nervously, "I couldn't find the roses."

Melanie pulled the phone away from her mouth, and whispered "You're so fired…"

"What did you say, Miss Weathers?" asked Sara fearing she had missed something important.

"I'll be their in a minute, Sara. And if possible, could you please persuade Mister Mason to stay. He isn't a very patience person." Before Sara could respond, Melanie hung up the phone "Idiots! I have to take Laurie to the mall, despite the fact that she can driver herself. And now I have this to deal with! How hard is it to locate 48 roses? Is she blind? What else is going to go wrong today?"

At that moment Melanie decided to step down from the sidewalk, preparing to cross the street. Only when she heard a loud horn suddenly go off did she turn her head. But is was too late. The Grey Hound bus collided with Melanie, knocking her unconscious and three car lengths down the street.

* * *

The trip to Marius' estate was anything but pleasant. The knight's only purpose was to retrieve young Alecto and bring him back to Hadrian's Wall. A simple mission, if you subtract the Saxons. After walling the monks in the prison in which the knights had found the Woad and the small boy, they left the estate, taking with them the family and the small village of people.

The daylight was slipping away from them and the Saxons were close behind. The carriages paused for a moment.

"We'll sleep here tonight." said Arthur. "Take shelter in those trees. Tristan."

The scout looked to his left, speaking to his hawk. "You wanna go out again? Yeah." The other knights watched as the bird flew off into the sky, while Tristan galloped into the forest.

* * *

She wore nothing but a lavender gown, no over coat or shoes. Her dark brown hair seemed to glide across the ground as she lay there. A light dusting of snow covered her body when he found her. Her skin was pale and probably cold to the touch.

He could see the steady rise and fall of her chest. _Odd_, he thought. _How could her breathing be normal in conditions like this? And even more strange there is not one injury on her entire body._

He surveyed this entire area a dozen times and now, receiving no warning, he finds a woman lying unconscious on the ground.

He walked over to his horse and went into the large satchel. He pulled out a wool blanket and began to walk back over to the woman.

The sun was rising and Tristan could hear the sound of Saxon drums in the distance. They were close. Too close.

Bringing his attention back to the woman on the ground, Tristan slowly went to his knees. He easily draped the black blanket over her body. The snow fall began to cover it immediately. He then proceeded to bring his hand down to her face, planning to brush away the snow on her cheeks. He was within an inch's length when a soft moan escaped her lips. Tristan quickly withdrew his hand.

The woman moved her head toward him; the falling snow seemed to awaken the sleeping beauty as it continued to descend upon her face. And slowly but surely, her eyes fluttered open.

* * *

The last thing she remembered was speaking with Sara on the phone and then there was a bus. And it knocked the living day lights out of her. She knew she must be dead. How else could she explain the cold? Melanie could feel the sting of ice hit her face. But for some reason, the rest of her body wasn't frozen.

But why would she be frozen? _Its summer time_, she thought.

Sighing softly, she willed herself to open her eyes. White specks covered her delicate eyes quickly and she instantly closed them. Breathing deeply, she said, "It can't be snowing…"

"It's always snowing." Melanie heard another's whisper as clear as day. She believed herself to be alone and on her way to death. Perhaps this person was the sprite to guide her to the gates of heaven, if there really was such a place.

Opening her eyes once more, like the first time, her vision was fuzzy, but the man kneeling before her gradually came into view.

He seemed to look through straight through her, piercing her mind. Brown eyes, Melanie thought they were; though it was too difficult tell. For his hair, also brown, some pieces were braided, nearly concealed his entire face. A beard, not too heavy, covered his chin and the lower half of his cheeks, while he sported a pair of dark blue tattoos on either side.

Melanie didn't know why, but she felt she could trust him.

"You're a strange looking angel." she said to him softly. "Do you have a name?"

"Tristan." he said simply.

"Tristan." she repeated, letting her mind linger. "Tell me Tristan, when did it start snowing?"

"It's always snowing." he said once again. "How did you wind up in the forest, Lady?"

She smiled. "Are you English? I can hear your accent."

"English? No Lady, I am Sarmatian." said Tristan getting a little bit annoyed. "Now, you must tell me, how long have you been in the forest?"

Melanie began to laugh at the very idea of beginning in a forest. She didn't even like the park. Too much noise with all the children and dogs…

CRACK

Tristan placed a hand over Melanie's mouth, her soft laughter put on hold. He could hear the low crunch of snow and the breaking of sticks.

"Saxons." he whispered. And like lightening, Tristan pulled himself and Melanie from the ground. He kept her closed against him, still wrapped the blanket. It was romantic at a stand still, but Melanie became suddenly very angry at this man called Tristan.

"How dare you handle me like this!" she yelled at him. He paid her no mind as he unsheathed his sword, his eyes constantly moving, searching.

Melanie saw the blade shining in the sunlight and was speechless. It was then Melanie also realized she was indeed in a forest. Trees of all sizes surrounded them. From a warm, busy New York City street to a snowy, cold forest in no mans land.

And it was time for yet another realization on Melanie's part. A shiver went through her body, starting at her toes. She looked down at her feet and found she had no shoes. Nothing was there. Nothing but a light purple material, soft and silky. Her eyes traveled upward and saw the intricate designs of flowers and leaves only on the right side of the garment, and sleeves covered her arms completely, flaring out at her wrists.

Melanie could not believe it! She was wearing a dress. She gets hit by a bus and she goes from black slacks and a red blouse to a lavender, princess style gown.

How was it all possible?

_He's going to kill me_, Melanie thought hopelessly, nearly fainting from the ideas of what he could do. He could do anything. She was almost certain no one could hear her scream.

"What are you going to do?" she asked him, fear clearly noticeable in her voice.

Tristan said nothing. He was still searching the trees. He knew they were out there. He looked to the sky suddenly, hearing his hawk's cry. There she was, circling overhead.

"Well, well," came a voice from behind them, "what is this?" Tristan quickly turned, sword in hand, moving in front of Melanie, shielding her with his body.

_Now he wants to protect me?_

Before them stood five Saxons, with dirty faces and messy beards. They probably never comb their hair. They were heavily suited in animal furs, armor and helmets. The two on the left were armed with crossbows and ready to fire, while the pair on the right had swords and shields. The man in the middle possessed only a sword. His weaponry and armor looked to be the strongest. He was bald and the biggest of the five. He had no shield or helmet.

"You ride in the company of Arthur, do you not?" asked the Saxon in the middle. Tristan didn't answer. The man then noticed Melanie. Her eyes went wide as he spoke.

"Pretty girl." he stated. Tristan moved backwards, causing Melanie to follow suit. In any other circumstance, Melanie might have blushed. But not this time. It was sweet to be look after so. She would thank him later…if they made it out alive.

"You know," the leader of the pack began again, "my men could use a girl like that." The other four Saxons began to spread out, moving to form a circle. "How about you give her to us, and we let you go."

Tristan heard a bird's cry in the trees and within seconds his hawk swooped down on one of the crossbowman. The Saxon cried out as the bird clawed at his eyes causing him to drop the bow. He fell to the ground as the hawk let go.

While the others were preoccupied at the moment, watching the bird circle its prey so to speak, Tristan took down the other bowman, who stood just beside the one in agony on the ground. Knocking the weapon from his hands, Tristan stabbed him in the gut without think twice.

* * *

On his killing spree, Melanie was left out in the open, unshielded and vulnerable to attack. Turning quickly, he saw the leader of the group approach her. She stepped backward and nearly fell over one of the discarded crossbows. The bald man still moved forward and out of instinct Melanie slapped him across the face. He paused for a moment, but then she saw the angry weld in his eyes.

Tristan grabbed her as soon as he could reach her arm and pulled her behind him before the Saxon could strike with his own fist. Melanie moved backward until her shoulder lightly grazed an oak tree, trying her best to keep out of the way.

"Kill him!" yelled the bald man, tried of this game.

The only two Saxons left circled the knight with their swords, twirling them ever so often. The one on his right struck first. He easily blocked the attack and kicked the Saxon to the ground. The left attacker tried the same move and Tristan blocked his blade while removing a dagger from one of his holsters. Jamming the small blade into his chest, Tristan was pulled on from behind, having his sword knocked from his hand.

The bald Saxon thought himself cute to challenge a Sarmatian Knight, so of course Tristan would oblige his wished. While the two men went through a series of punches, no one saw the man Tristan had knocked down earlier regain his footing. No one but Melanie. The Saxon stammered a little as he shook his head clear, but easily began his trail over to Tristan. Melanie had to do something.

And then she saw it. A discarded crossbow lying in the snow. Melanie couldn't let this man. She just couldn't. She quickly ran over a few steps and picked up the bow. It was already loaded, so all she had to do was figure out how to use it.

"Archery in gym class was so much simpler." she said frantically as she tried to release the bow.

* * *

Knocking the big brute to the ground, he cowardly ran into the safety of the trees. Thinking of following him, Tristan decided against it.

He turned to see were the girl was. He couldn't find her for his vision was blocked by the other Saxon he was fighting earlier. He lunged at him with his sword but fell short a couple of steps short when he tumbled to the ground with an arrow in his back. It went right through his armor.

Tristan looked up quickly and saw her holding the crossbow, looking like she had done it before. He smiled briefly at the thought.

"Thank you, Lady." he said.

"Melanie," she said, "my name is Melanie-" She instantly dropped the crossbow when she felt a cold steel blade press against her neck. Tristan ran to his horse and grabbed his bow, and in no time it was load with an arrow.

"I would not if I were you." The Saxons just kept coming. The coward he fought only minutes ago had returned with two more of his men. Holding on tightly to Melanie, he backed away slowly.

"You're not me, Saxon" said Tristan. "I never miss." The blade moved closer to Melanie's throat.

"You may hit me," he stated, "but she'll die."

Tristan could do nothing. And Melanie knew that. "At least you tried." she said holding back tears. Tristan only stood there contemplating whether or not to shoot. It was true, he never missed, but he couldn't risk them hurting her.

Why all of a sudden was he so sympathetic?

He lowered his bow. "Touching, is it not?" said the Saxon as he slowly began to step backwards. "Don't wait for us." he said with a menacing grin.

Melanie immediately began to struggle. The Saxon turned her around to face him. "Now, come quietly, or you we kill you here and now."

Melanie was looking into the eyes of a killer. He would kill her if need be. She said nothing to him and simply walked in step with this murderous villain.


	2. Chapter II: You Will Cooperate

**Summary:** _An ordinary day turns into a grand adventure when a young woman gets hit by a bus and is pulled into the world of King Arthur and his knights. But things are not always what they seem. Melanie soon learns that everything happens for a reason. Pairing is TristanOC._

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own King Arthur._

**Author's Notes:** _Well, here is the next chapter. Sorry, but Tristan only has about five lines this time, so ultimately, his part is very short. Again, I apologize. But please, don't let that stop you from reading. I promise he'll have a huge roll in the next update!_

**And a special thanks to my reviewers:**

_Scouter, Scottishgal12, Sidewalkspitter, Evohe, and SilverLight05. I will reply to your reviews shortly. Thanks so much for your support!_

* * *

**Chapter II: You Will Cooperate**

It was official. Melanie's toes were frozen through. There was no feeling left in them. She was tempted to ask for a pair of shoes. She would have taken anything, even if they were three sizes too small. However, she dared not open her mouth, fearing the man beside her would slice out her tongue, preventing her from speaking at all.

Desperate wasn't the word to describe her current state.

Melanie's entire body shivered. The thin material of her dress didn't shield her body against the cold. Because of the rough journey, in certain places, along her arms and stomach, the gown was torn and tattered. Thankfully it didn't show too much of interest.

Melanie missed the black blanket her mysterious angel draped around her body. It had gotten caught on a tree branch about a mile back. When she tried to snatch it from the limb, the monster that held her arms pulled her fiercely, almost causing her ankle to twist.

A mysterious angel. Were those the words to describe him? Were those the words to describe this Tristan? A man of strength and silence. A man she had only met for split second before her untimely kidnapping.

_Why is he plaguing my mind_, she thought desperately. _I should be figuring out how to get out of this mess not thinking about a wild man I met in the forest! Even more importantly, I need to figure out why I'm in the forest in the first place!! Its not like this guy is gonna save me…_

Melanie's thought settled down as she heard the beating of drums and the cold laughter of men; men just like the four that lie dead in the woods somewhere. She assumed this was their encampment.

As the cover of the trees broke, Melanie could see that her guess was confirmed. Fires still roaring in the fresh snow, a few tents here and there. It would have been cozy, if not for the company.

"Welcome home." came the voice of her captor, that sadistic smile still locked on his face. She wanted so much to slap him again. But where would that leave her? Tristan was not there to save her.

"You call this a home. A barnyard full of pigs smells better than this." said Melanie, gaining a little more nerve to speak. She looked at him, eyes unmoving. "You're going to kill me, aren't you?"

The man pulled her a little harder as he spoke, "Why would you think that? Did one of my men say something to you?"

"You mean those animals can speak…"

The Saxon that stood on her left shifted suddenly. When Melanie turned to look at him, she noticed the back of his hand quickly coming towards her. She immediately recoiled, trying to avoid the impact. The hand was but an inch from her face when her captor reached out and prevented the soldier from moving further.

"There will be none of that." he said shoving the recruit's hand away. Melanie tried to step away from the two men, but she was pulled back by the man's rough, greasy hands. The hold on her chin was brutal. There would probably be a bruise. Melanie could smell his breath, and feel it bouncing off her cheeks.

"Whether or not you live to see tomorrow Lady," he began, "will depend solely on your knights."

Melanie became confused. "Knights? What knights?" The man laughed, ignoring her question. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You," began the Saxon, his laughter slowly dying, "know exactly what I'm talking about." He gradually removed a dagger from his person and in no time it was pressed against Melanie's face. "You will cooperate."

"And if I refuse?" she asked him, her voice a little shaky.

"Then it'll be the last thing you ever do."

It was hard to believe the dagger was clean. She was sure he was a brutal killer, slaughtering at will.

"Do you often pick your battles with women?" she said suddenly. "Are you that much of a coward?"

Instead of the knife, Melanie received the back of his hand. It was swift and quick across her mouth. She could taste blood on her lips. He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her closer. "A coward flees from his battles, Lady." stated the Saxon simply.

He roughly shoved Melanie backwards and she lost her footing. The two Saxons behind her let her fall to the ground. When her head hit the snow, she could hear a number of men laughing at her clumsiness.

Melanie quickly scrambled to her feet, taking a small second to catch her breath. Through the strands of her hair, she could see the Saxon with his back to her, laughing with the other brutes. At this point it didn't matter what she said.

"Only a coward flees, you say?" she yelled over the laughter, trying to get his attention. The bald man slowly turned around, smiling. "You mean like the battle you ran from only moments ago." She said it all too loudly and all too proudly.

Whispers immediately broke out amongst the men. She, of course, was referring to the battle between Tristan and himself. Melanie witnessed the whole thing.

"How dare you!" he roared taking a step toward her. The other men stopped their murmurs.

"How dare I? How dare _you_!" she screamed at him.

"Are you aware of whom you speak!"

"If I wanted to know I would have asked a long time ago!"

"Bind her hands!" And in no time, a Saxon with tangled black hair approached her. Melanie turned to run, but was met by another bully with the same features. She tried to dodge their hungry grasps, but failed.

Melanie kicked and squirmed against them. She was able to get her right arm free and elbowed one of the men in his stomach. It was useless; her attack didn't phase him. He only proceed to twist her arm behind her back in a less than comfortable way.

"Let me go!" she screamed. She watched as the bald Saxon walked over to a nearby tent. "Your fight is not with me! I've done nothing to you people! Let me go!"

Melanie continued to struggle as the men tried to tie her hands. The rope was thick and coarse. "Let me go!" she screamed again.

"Gag her as well!" yelled the Saxon, not turning to look at his captive. "I will not listen to her screaming the entire way!"

"Where are you taking m-" Melanie's mouth was instantly covered with a more than offensive material. The once white cloth was stained with dirt and smelled of alcohol. Melanie wasn't much of a drinker, but she knew the scent of it all the same.

It wasn't long after they threw her to the ground once again, did Melanie hear a bird's cry. She, along with a few others, noticed a hawk flying through the air, circling the area. Her eyes widened with the faintest feeling of deja vu.

"Gather your weapons men! We leave now!"

* * *

Marius' death was quick and fast, for an arrow through his chest was his path to God. Justice was done…for the time being.

Tristan only arriving when he saw the Roman's guards tossing their weapons to the ground did he hears Bors' voice. "How many did you kill?"

"Four." he said simply.

"Not a bad start to the day!" Bors yelled back, laughing merrily.

Tristan rode over to were Arthur stood, stopping only to drop a crossbow on the ground at his commander's feet. "Armor piercing. They're close. We have no time."

"You ride ahead." Before Arthur could move, Tristan's voice stopped him.

"Arthur, there was a woman. In the forest."

His commander gave him an odd look. "What? Who is she?"

"I don't know. There wasn't much time for questions." said Tristan. "Not soon did she wake, did they take her."

"Saxons…"

"Yes."

"The same fleet tracking us?"

"More than likely."

"Another woman." sighed Arthur heavily. He gazed towards the Woad they had only found a day ago.

"What do you think?"

"If we stop for one person," began Arthur as he moved his gaze to Tristan, "we put everyone else at risk."

"Arthur-"

"You know what Saxons are capable of, Tristan." interrupted Arthur. "What are the chances that she is still alive?"


	3. Chapter III: Far Out Of Range

**Summary:** _An ordinary day turns into a grand adventure when a young woman gets hit by a bus and is pulled into the world of King Arthur and his knights. But things are not always what they seem. Melanie soon learns that everything happens for a reason. Pairing is TristanOC._

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own King Arthur._

**Author's Notes:** _Sorry I took so long with chapter three…hope no one is mad. This chapter mainly focuses on Melanie and her current conditions, not very pleasant. Tristan's part is coming I promise! I wanted to through him in this time around, but I couldn't find any dialogue to suit the Scout. But there is tiny bit of him towards the end. Well, keep reading and reviewing. You know I crave it!!_

**And a special thanks to my reviewers:**

SilverLight05_, and _kahr_. I will reply to your reviews shortly. Thanks so much for your support!_

* * *

**Chapter III: Far Out Of Range**

Melanie, her hands still bound and mouth still covered, was being pushed along by a small man. He looked to be his early twenties, with black hair and a long nose. But he was not like _these_ men. He reminded Melanie of a peasant, someone that would tend to horses or chop wood.

But why would a peasant be around such thugs? Was he a prisoner as well? Melanie doubted that. His hands weren't tied together, and he was aloud to bully her around.

_No_, Melanie decided, _he is not a prisoner._ But still the question remained, why was he here? She doubted he was a friend. Perhaps he owed them money? Or maybe it was something else all together…

Melanie wasn't sure of anything anymore. She had stepped into some sort of medieval world and hadn't a clue how it happened. There were so many questions, but Melanie hadn't the time to ask them. She was too busy trying to stay alive.

_That bus is to blame_, Melanie thought decisively. _That damn bus! That damn Sara! Just wait until I wake up! She's the first one I'm coming after! _She sighed through her muzzle, calming herself mentally._ I'm probably in a coma, just having a really weird dream. Well, a nightmare better describes it I suppose. But no nightmare has ever felt this real._

Melanie marched along with the men; the right foot, then the left. It seemed simple enough, but when you can't feel your feet, who knows if you're doing it right. It was getting harder to stand every second. But whatever Melanie was doing must have been acceptable; she didn't receive any complaints. Though every so often, her peasant escort would shove her shoulders when she began to slow.

Melanie shot him an evil glare. His constant shoving wasn't the only problem. He had been stepping on her gown the entire way. The dress swept the ground gracefully despite Melanie's current state. Every five minutes, a new foot print would appear, and all she could do was walk forward.

Melanie wasn't used to this kind of action. She wasn't used to this abuse. She wished she was 13 again. She was once so childish and had tons of energy. Too bad she didn't possess it now; her hands wouldn't be tied together. The rope would be lying in the snow and she'd be any where but here. Melanie used to be so clever in her younger years. She wasn't the troublesome type, but she wasn't a goodie-goodie either.

Then, of course, there were her other escorts. Melanie had somehow ended up between a few Saxons. The word 'bath' must not have been in their vocabulary. It was a horrible stench emitting from their bodies. The mixture of dirt, sweat, and ale was anything but pleasing to the nose.

They really were pigs.

Melanie accidentally bumped into one of them. Luckily the man in front of her didn't notice. They had suddenly come to an abrupt stop. Looking straight ahead, (it was all she could do) Melanie immediately noticed a line of people off in the distance. Peering in between the heads in front of her, she was sure she counted seven…or maybe it was eight. It really didn't matter at this point.

Her eyes widen with the smallest glint of hope.

The leader of the small convoy called for one of his archers. Melanie watched as the filthy looking man loaded the bow. Everyone watched the arrow fly when he let it loose. It glided across the ground, landing no where near the target.

"They are out of range." came the voice of a Saxon that approached his commander.

"I can see that!"

* * *

Arthur saw the arrow float across the ice. "I think they're waiting for an invitation. Bors, Tristan." 

"They're far out of range." said Guinevere suddenly. Arthur merely flashed a look and waited for his knights to carry out his orders. And within no time, the arrows soared through the sky. Unlike the Saxons, Tristan and Bors were able to take down the men easily on the opposing front.

They did not, however, expect to reveal a woman on the Saxon's left wing. Almost all the men around her fell dead. She had no choice but to jump backwards to avoid getting smashed by one of them.

Tristan's eyes widened, tension rising. Her clothing blew in the wind, curling around her ankles. The purple was easy to spot in a cloud of black and dark brown furs. And Tristan knew it could only be one person. _They didn't kill her_, he thought.

"Who is that?" asked Lancelot completely perplexed, his bow slipping a little in his hands.

"It's not a Saxon, that's for sure." said Guinevere.

"Another Woad then?" he said to her in a playful manner. She looked towards the curly haired knight and gave him a small smile. Her eyes, however, went past him and took sight of Tristan's face.

"What is wrong with your scout, Commander?" she said, turning to the Roman. Arthur looked at her, then at Tristan. "Does he know her?"

* * *

The skinny peasant immediately grabbed Melanie's shoulders, dragging her across the ground. And just as quickly, the small man shoved her towards the bald Saxon that had abducted her. She was pulled straight up, by the hair, her chin towards the sky, her body facing the eight fighters off in the distance. The short cry was hushed by the muzzle. 

"Just as I thought," he whispered in her ear. Through the strands of hair covering her face, Melanie could see a few of the men. They stood tall and proud. "Let us hope," came his venomous voice again, "you will not disappoint."

Melanie froze. _What does he mean by that?_

And without warning, Melanie was pushed into step. Everyone began to walk forward.

* * *

"This man has to be the biggest coward alive." said Galahad as he watch the fleet march toward them, the woman out in front, shielding the spineless Saxon. 

"With any luck, in the next five minutes, he'll be the deadest." said Bors, pausing a moment to laugh at his own words.

Without hesitation, Arthur lifted his bow, pointed the arrow into the air. Everyone else followed suit. He paused a moment, gazing at the marching troops. "Aim for the wings of the ranks. Make them cluster."

The arrows were released and the men on the Saxon's left side went down. The knights reloaded their bows and let loose the arrows again, this time aiming for the right side.

* * *

Melanie had had enough. She was tried of being man handled. Not to mention the fact that arrows were flying everywhere. She was lucky enough to still possess her head. 

Melanie's struggles were slow at first, but began quickly. She tried her hardest and did her best to release the man's string grip. Melanie could only wiggle in his grasp, despite the pain it cause; he still possessed a tight grip on her hair.

Thankfully, her feet weren't bound, and Melanie proceeded to kick his shins. Her movements were tough and hasty. Apparently, she had hit a more than sensitive area, and the large man dropped her immediately. The entire fleet stopped when they saw their captain go down.

Melanie wasted little time and regained her footing. She backed away quickly, moving to the center of the battlefield. She didn't even take notice of the sight behind her. She could have easily rushed to their sides.

Melanie could have run to safety, but she was too busy struggling to free the rope around her wrists.

* * *

"Idiot!" commented Lancelot as he watched the woman dancing on the ice. 

"They have her hands bound." replied Tristan with his eyes squinted.

"So, that's why she's dancing…" mumbled Lancelot.

The scout's eyes shifted between her and the ground, waiting for any signs of fracture in the frozen water. "She must not know its ice." said Tristan observing her carefully. "And now the Saxons are moving again." he said as fired an arrow at an approaching swine.

The woman, Melanie he thought her name was, saw the arrow fly. It came dangerously close to her head, but Tristan had excellent aim and always hit his targets. He noticed when she stopped her current assignment and watch the Saxon fall. She then turned around without hesitation and saw the line of warriors, their faces crystal clear.


	4. Chapter IV: Shattered Ice

**Summary:** _An ordinary day turns into a grand adventure when a young woman gets hit by a bus and is pulled into the world of King Arthur and his knights. But things are not always what they seem. Melanie soon learns that everything happens for a reason. Pairing is TristanOC._

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own King Arthur._

**Author's Notes: **_Read and review! I beg you!!!_

**And a special thanks to my reviewers:**

_Scottishgal12, SilverLight05, Readerfreak10, Blackangel90, cleopatra32003, _and_ Skay. I will reply to your reviews shortly. Thanks so much for your support!_

* * *

**Chapter IV: Shattered Ice**

Bringing her attention towards the knights, presented to be Melanie's downfall unfortunately. No sooner did she turn her head, did a sharp pain go through her right leg.

Melanie yelled out in agony as she fell to the ground. Her gaze drifted to her leg and right below her knee, an arrow, going right through her dress, pierced her skin. The lavender gown was quickly turning red as blood began to flow.

Despite the dieing company, the Saxon's speed hadn't changed. She even overhead their leader yelling at them, demanding that they hold the ranks. They were getting entirely too close.

Out of instinct, Melanie proceeded to remove the arrow. But she couldn't do it. It hurt too much. Instead, she attempted to stand. That also proved useless. This time the impact was harder than before; it was as if she had slipped.

Melanie was curious. She took her hand and lightly brushed away some of the snow dusting the ground. There wasn't any dirt underneath. Melanie froze instantly, fearing the thin sheet of ice would break if she moved.

* * *

"It's not going to break!" said Arthur, throwing his bow down. "Back! Fall back! Prepare for combat!" he yelled. 

Tristan wasn't a foolish individual, but chivalry got the best of him at that moment. Or was it something else? Without warning, the young knight dashed across the ice. He moved quickly, the froze water only making him faster.

"Okay, I was wrong. He's the idiot." said Lancelot under his breath.

"Tristan!" yelled Gawain. "What the hell is he doing?"

"Cover him." commanded Arthur. Everyone moved to pick up their bows.

Instead of trying to kill the girl, Tristan found that he was their new target. It wasn't surprising. The others were able to take out the Saxon's first row easily. But in no time, another line appeared, ready to fire.

"Dag!" yelled Bors suddenly. Tristan turned his head and saw Dagonet breaking the line with his axe waving in the air. One could only imagine what would come of this. Dagonet bent to his knees, bringing his axe up high.

"Get the girl Tristan!" he yelled as the axe hit the ice.

Arrows continued to fly. One hit Dagonet in the abdomen. But he continued to chop the ice until finally the weight became too much.

"The ice is breaking!" yelled a skinny, lanky man in the crowd of Saxons.

* * *

Melanie's sense were on high alert. She had a wounded leg, there were arrows flying all around her, men rushing from both sides, and she lay on top of a frozen pond. And now, thanks to some huge giant with an axe, that ice was breaking. 

She would have much preferred being at the mall with her sister, or even with Sarah at the flower shop.

The ice began to crack near her ankles. Melanie quickly slid them out of the way before it split entirely. She began to move her body backwards, using her arms and hands.

Everyone seemed to cease fire when the ice started to split. Melanie watched as her kidnapper and his men moved back. The weight was too much for the ice to withstand. Nearly half of those men fell into the frigid water. Whether or not they emerged, Melanie did not know.

The ice beneath her body began to break rapidly. Thankfully for Melanie, a pair of hands quickly grabbed her by the shoulders, dragging her onto a solid piece of the pond.

She turned her head quickly and saw him. "You…"

* * *

The breaking of the ice sent the Saxon's running. They would finish this battle another day. But the Saxon's did leave their mark. 

The arrow that hit Dagonet in the stomach did not inflict much damage. The wound wasn't deep, so more than likely it didn't hit any of his organs. Gawain proceeded to pull it out, but Dagonet wouldn't allow it. He would do it himself. Bors and Arthur proceeded to help him up and carry him to his horse.

Meanwhile, Tristan took it upon himself to assist the young damsel in distress. His attention instantly went to the arrow in her leg. He bent down for a closer inspection.

"I didn't expect to see you again…" she said softly. Tristan ignored her.

Lightly grasping the delicate material of her gown, Tristan easily ripped the fabric, trying his best not to hit the arrow. He felt her jump slightly when he touched her leg. She was so cold. And she was shivering. Her teeth would chatter every now and then. Tristan carefully grasped the arrow and then began to pull…

"Do you know what you're doing?" she asked him quickly, before he could remove it. "Because I tried that, and it wasn't the best idea."

Tristan sighed. "Melanie, was it?" She nodded and smiled a little at the thought of him remembering her name. "Lady Melanie, you see that big man over there? The one being helped onto the horse?"

Melanie turned her head and nodded again, "Yes, I see him."

"Well, he is our healer." She turned around to face Tristan. "And usually he would be doing this."

"So, why isn't he?" asked Melanie.

"Because he's in the same position as you." Melanie didn't catch on. "He was hit by an arrow as well, only he was hit in the stomach."

"Oh, no…" Melanie didn't know what to say. She was the cause of his injury. She continued to dwell in the moment as Tristan began to speak again.

"And hence, being as it must come out…" He trailed off as he placed his hand on the arrow again. And like lightening, he removed the arrow from her leg, causing Melanie to snap out of her reverie. She couldn't help but scream.

"You son of bitch!" she yelled, as she grasped her leg. "What the hell is wrong with you!" Tristan was on the edge of laughter when he looked at her enraged face.

_She's cute when she's angry_, he though to himself. "You should be thanking me." he said casually as he threw the blood stain arrow in her lap. Tristan once again ripped her dress. He tied the long strip of silk over the wound tightly. Melanie watched him as she spoke.

"What I should do," she began, picking up the arrow, "is stab you in the leg with this, then rip it out with no warning!"

"Of course you should."

"Why didn't you tell me when you were going to do that?" she asked him in a softer tone. "You could have at least given me a count down or something."

"It would have hurt either way. Why prolong the suffering?" said Tristan with no emotion, as he picked her up from the ground.

Melanie wasn't expecting him to raise her up. She didn't struggle against him despite her current attitude, however. Melanie relented in his arms, linking her hands around his neck. She had never been carried bridal style before. There was an appealing feel to it.


End file.
